


all i've ever known is how to hold my own

by TheMightyChipmunk



Series: Reddie Meet-Cute AUs [15]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22005094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyChipmunk/pseuds/TheMightyChipmunk
Summary: The two of them stood in amicable silence for a moment before the ground beneath their feet lurched once and the lights above them started flickering. The elevator stopped its ascent abruptly.“Um… what just happened.” Eddie said, glaring at the dimmed light bulbs and white-knuckling the bar of the elevator wall.“I think… the elevator just broke down.” Richie said, huffing in surprise at the realization. Eddie stared at him in abject horror.***To be fair, you would be upset too if you got locked in an elevator with the man you had a huge crush on - who also happened to be the man you were contractually obligated to assassinate.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Reddie Meet-Cute AUs [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/889581
Comments: 65
Kudos: 374





	all i've ever known is how to hold my own

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite a twist on a Meet Cute but... it works haha tbh I've been working on this fic for so long - it's not perfect and I could slave over it for another year, but I wanted to post it and have done with it lol
> 
> I really hope y'all like it!!

**_3 minutes before the elevator_ **

Richie didn’t even try to compose himself as he bounded down the stairs, going as fast as he could and trying to ignore how sad it was that he was SO excited about food. Honestly, this was the most excited he’d been all day, even more than during _curtain call_. That said something about him, that the main thrill he got in life was from a cheeseburger and fries. _But_ he wasn’t going to look too deeply into that. He had food to eat.

When he got to the lobby of his apartment, he swung the front door open and stopped short at the stoop.

“Oh, there’s two of you.” He said, since well, there were two people standing there with bags of food, waiting impatiently.

“Are you Eddie?” one of them asked and Richie laughed, adjusting his beanie.

“No, I’m not. That’s so crazy, two of you at one building at the same time. They can’t do one order for that?” Richie asked, but the guy didn’t seem amused.

“Doesn’t always work out like that, man. We take what we can get.” As he was talking, the door behind him swung open, revealing who Richie assumed was the second door-dasher. And oh boy, was he cute – big brown eyes and messy dark hair. He was wearing soft looking sweatpants and a sweater crop-top with the rainbow Polaroid logo. Cute _cute_ cute.

“Oh shit.” He said, freezing at the top step outside the building. Richie grinned at him and gestured to the two annoyed employees.

“Crazy timing, right?” Richie asked, not understanding why no one else was excited by this. The guy sighed and nodded, smiling at Richie like you would a child you are humoring. Did he mention cute?

“Yeah,” he muttered, moving down the steps, “not like anyone could’ve known it. Not like anyone is monitoring the credit card activity of everyone in the building and therefore could’ve prevented such a coincidence.”

All three of them were silent in response to that.

“That’s a weird thing to say,” DoorDash guy #1 said, sighing, “Are you Eddie?” the guy tensed slightly but nodded and reached for his bag.

“So I’m assuming you’re here for Richie?” Richie asked DoorDash #2, who nodded and handed over the bag. Richie looked over to see Eddie hand his driver a ten dollar bill, making the previously annoyed boy grin and bound off with a smile and a cheery thanks. Eddie turned around, making eye contact with Richie for a split second before moving on.

“Wait!” he said, grabbing his arm gently. The guy looked down at Richie’s hand until he took the hint and moved it, “Um, you’re supposed to tip in person on DoorDash? I’ve never seen that before.” He stared at Richie like he was crazy and then reached into his pocket, handing a five dollar bill to DoorDash #2 with a blank face.

“Wow, thanks so much, man! Have a good one!” the guy said before leaving with a renewed spring in his step. Richie hummed in contemplation and then followed Eddie back inside.

“That was nice of you.” Richie said to Eddie’s back. The man just gave a half-smile in response. “Helping out a stranger. Making me not look like so much of a dick. I appreciate it.”

“No worries.” Was all he said in response. Richie wasn’t an idiot, he could take a hint. The guy didn’t want to talk, even if they were waiting for the same elevator... Even if they were both attractive, similarly aged guys living in the prime of their life. Even if they would probably have _amazing_ sex… he didn’t want to talk. That’s fine. Richie wouldn’t push it.

The two of them stood together in an awkward silence, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I think I’m gonna take the stairs.” Eddie said after a moment, pivoting on the balls of his feet and heading to the door to their left.

“Oh, um, I don’t think that-”

“ _Out of order_?” the guy read in a shocked voice, “How can stairs be _out of order_?” Richie laughed automatically, receiving a glare from the stranger, unsurprisingly. He seemed like an ornery sort, which was fun in its own way.

“You must’ve just moved in, yeah? Those have been out of commission since I got here last year.” Richie explained, “When did you move in?”

“A few weeks ago.” The guy explained reluctantly.

“Well, welcome to the building.” Richie smiled, earning a raised eyebrow and nod from the man. It wasn’t the friendliest gesture, but Richie would take it. Right as he said it, the left elevator doors dinged open and the two of them walked forward. Richie hung back and let Eddie enter first, solely to be a gentleman and NOT to check any part of him out.

“What floor?” Eddie asked, hands hovering over the buttons. Richie noticed he’d already pressed the button for 8 and filed away that information for no reason.

“6, please.” Richie said before leaning back against the wall and shoving the hand that wasn’t holding his food into the pocket of his pajama pants. They stood in amicable silence for a moment before the ground beneath their feet lurched once and the lights above them started flickering. Then, the elevator stopped its ascent abruptly.

“Um… what just happened.” Eddie said, glaring at the dimmed light bulbs and white-knuckling the bar of the elevator wall.

“I think… the elevator just broke down.” Richie said, huffing in surprise at the realization. Eddie stared at the floor in horror before reaching desperately for the alarm button. Then he grabbed the red phone frantically.

“Hello? Hello? Oh my GOD, how is this not working? Who the fuck is your super? This would not have been an issue with STAIRS! That is _so_ unsafe!” Eddie complained, slamming the phone into the cradle. Richie stifled a laugh – it would’ve been rude of him, especially because Eddie was so obviously Type A. Losing control of this situation was probably killing him.

So, in order to be as calming as he possibly could be, Richie sat down quietly and started to eat.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked, slightly incredulous as Richie settled on the ground, cross-legged.

“I’m going to eat my food.” Richie said, emptying his bag and pulling out his burger excitedly. He took a big bite, ignoring the slight judgment on Eddie’s face, “Feel free to eat as well.” He insisted through a full mouth.

“Off the floor?” Eddie asked. He eyed the hardwood suspiciously before sighing loudly, “How are you hungry at a time like this? You’re ridiculously calm.”

“Oh well… I mean there’s not much we can do. There’s no service in this elevator and our alarm options are conveniently busted. So. I might as well eat.” Richie explained before grinning and taking a huge bite of his burger. Eddie glared for a moment, looking around at his surroundings like maybe something he’d missed would jump out. After a second though, he sighed and stared at the ceiling in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll eat. But _just_ because I’m not going to sit here and smell your food when I have my own.”

“Exactly, that would be silly.” Richie smiled widely, relishing the mini-victory. Eddie seemed to be stubborn stock, so the successful persuasion was exciting, “What did you get?” Richie asked politely as Eddie pulled out a Styrofoam bowl.

“Oh, just pho.” Eddie stated simply as he snapped open some chopsticks.

“Ooh. Beef.”

“Vegetarian.”

“Nice. Very nice. I’m more of a ramen guy myself, but I can fuck with pho every once in a while.” Richie said. Eddie just nodded and slurped up some noodles, staring at his food intently. Richie was only partly insulted that he seemed more interested by his food than Richie.

“To be honest, I really prefer instant ramen – the chili flavor. It’s not REAL ramen, I _know_ , but I fucks with it. Hard. And it’s only 99 cents!” Richie admitted, getting barely a hum of acknowledgment in response.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Richie asked, dragging a fry through some ketchup. Eddie’s eyes flashed to him quickly, but his face remained deadpan as he chewed his noodles.

“Not while I’m eating, no.” He said after swallowing pointedly. Richie laughed and shook his head.

“I feel like I’ve had this conversation before…” he took a big bite of his burger, “But anyway, I don’t have that reservation.” Eddie smiled bitterly and nodded.

“Yeah, I can see that. And your half-chewed burger. It’s a really lovely experience for me.” Eddie teased. He grabbed a napkin and wiped mouth delicately before bundling it up and chucking it right at Richie’s head.

“Well, we can’t just be trapped in an elevator together and NOT talk. Conversation is a must, food in mouths or not.” Richie explained, picking up the napkin and using it himself to be a little less gross, enjoying Eddie’s small smile.

“I disagree, but… I guess I will offer you 5 minutes of conversation. No more, no less. What do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked and Richie smiled widely, happy he was playing along.

“We should get to know each other!” Richie said, as if it was obvious, “Hmm… okay. Tell me about your best friend.”

“My best friend?”

“Yeah! You can tell a lot about a person by asking about their best friend.” Richie said amicably. Eddie hummed in thought and then shrugged.

“Okay, who’s yours then?” Eddie asked, obviously buying some time. Richie’s stomach clenched, but he responded truthfully like he always does.

“My little sister, definitely.” Richie was the picture of nonchalance as he took another bit of burger, and Eddie seemed to be buying it.

“What does that say about you?” Eddie asked, teasingly.

“That I have a big heart and an unshakeable respect for women. Now, stop stalling and answer the question, Eds my man.” Richie insisted, making Eddie roll his eyes, a smile pulling on his lips.

“ _Fine_ … Well, I have a few best friends, actually. About 5. It’s hard to choose one.”

“Five? Damn, you’re putting me to shame.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Well, pick any one. Tell me about _one_ , at least.”

“Okay… well, I’ve been talking to Ben a lot recently, so I’ll talk about him.”

“ _Ben_. How exotic. Okay. Tell me about this Ben. Is he hot?” Eddie laughed and shrugged, nodding.

“Yeah, he’s a total babe. His wife thinks so, too. He got married last year, to one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met. She’s totally badass. Ben, though… he’s more than just a beefcake. He’s the nicest guy ever, such a big heart. We met in… the seventh grade I think. Been friends ever since.”

“Wow. That’s a long time. What does he do for a living?”

“Oh, he’s a forger,” Eddie said seriously, face blank, “Government documents, renaissance art, old Arabic Illuminated Manuscripts – he does it all.”

“Are you serious?” Richie asked, shocked. Eddie stared for another long moment before cracking, laughing and easing the moment.

“No, of course not,” he smiled brightly, making Richie laugh as well, butterflies starting a little bit at how beautiful that smile was, “He did make us fake I.D’s in high school though. That was impressive.”

“Well shit, if that’s all it takes to be a forger, I think I have those qualifications as well.” Richie admitted, making Eddie raise his eyebrows, slightly impressed.

“Okay, then, I’ll make some calls… actually, though, he’s a writer. A poet, more specifically.”

“Oh! Wow, that’s awesome. Is that what you do too?” Richie asked, following the general flow of conversation, but Eddie tensed slightly. Not too noticeably, but there was definitely a hiccup in his movements as he chewed on his noodles.

“Oh… um.”

“Is my interrogation too intense? Did I already stump you?” Richie teased laughingly. Eddie rolled his eyes and lifted one finger in response.

“ _No_. it’s just…. My job is nothing interesting. Lame conversation, really. It’s… boring. _Honestly_ boring.”

###

**_1 month and 3 days before the elevator_ **

This was boring. Eddie was bored. And confused. He watched the guy at the counter, ordering a large cup of unsweetened black tea like a maniac, as he simultaneously scrolled through his Facebook page.

 _Summary of subject Richie Tozier: 26, recently found success as a Broadway performer, originally from a small bumfuck town in Maine, majored in Theater Arts at Columbia, now spends a depressing majority of his nights with his neighbor’s cat that drifts through his window when she feels like it_.

He absolutely took the crown for lamest assignment Eddie had ever received. Why the fuck did Bowers want this guy dead anyway? It didn’t make sense. Sure, the kid spent a lot of time on the weekends at clubs Bowers had his hand in – their paths possibly could’ve crossed before but… he _had_ to have done something pretty shitty for Bowers to put a whole-ass professional hit out on him, to cash in one of Eddie’s very few favors he was offering the guy.

Well, he either did something really bad or he was just THAT annoying, but… _no one_ was _that_ annoying. Right? (God, maybe this job was just finally catching up to Eddie. Maybe he was starting to crack.)

Eddie looked up at the man waiting at the café bar. He was fiddling with the sugar packets, slapping two of them together in a rhythm only he understood. Eventually, of course, he slapped them together a little too hard and one of the packets ripped open, spilling sugar all over the floor. Richie’s eyes widened and he looked around to see if anyone was looking, before stepping pointedly over the mess of sugar to the other side of the waiting area, blowing out a deep breath. Eddie chuckled and rolled his eyes. Yeah, this guy was a fucking mess, but there’s no way he was a secret mob boss.

So again, why the _fuck_ did Bowers want him dead?

Richie leaned against a new wall and scanned the contents of the café, his eyes catching on Eddie. Red alarms blared softly in his head, because that could be bad. Eddie had done his baseline research and based on Richie’s past, his exes and porn searches, he had a type. And that type? It was Eddie.

That sounds arrogant, but honestly, it was true. He was into short feisty twinks with brown hair, wide but slightly mean eyes, and sharp cheekbones. That was Eddie. And Timothee Chalamet, but unfortunately, he wasn’t in the café as well. So, Richie caught his eye and stood up a little straighter, smiling. Eddie twitched his lips into a small smile in response and then returned to looking at his computer, a universal signal for “hi, thanks, not interested”. However, Richie didn’t look away; _he_ was definitely interested. Eddie had to take some extra measures. He grabbed his phone and dialed the person he most had questions for at the moment.

“Bowers.” The man said when the ringing stopped. Eddie was already annoyed, just at the tambour of his voice.

“So, what the fuck is this assignment?” Eddie asked, forgoing pleasantries and also slipping into German. That was for a few reasons: a) Richie didn’t understand German so he couldn’t snoop, b) even if Richie wasn’t RIGHT THERE, it isn’t a good idea to talk about an assassination assignment in public hearing, c) it was WAY easier to sound mad in German, like way easier. And he wanted to be mad, so.

“Why are you speaking in German?”

“I’m in public. Now stop distracting me and tell me why you want this guy dead.”

“Oh, Tozier? God, he’s annoying, right? Just the fucking worst.” Eddie felt a protective instinct well up in him as he covertly stared at the man standing a few feet away from him. God, he was like a giant dumb puppy and Eddie wanted to jump down Bowers throat about it – but that instinct really wasn’t going to help him in the moment.

“You kill people because they’re annoying now?”

“Maybe. If I want,” Henry responded, smug as hell and Eddie grit his teeth in frustration; he fucking hated working for this guy, “In all honesty, Kaspbrak, I don’t owe you any explanation. You do the jobs I tell you to, and that’s that.”

“This last fucking time. One more job, Bowers, that’s all you get from me.” Eddie added on spitefully. Bowers just chuckled, unfazed.

“Yeah, yeah, one more job.”

“And you’re wasting it on a Broadway actor?” Eddie asked, disbelieving and hoping to weasel out more information, “ _Why_?” Bowers was quiet for a moment, so Eddie took a sip of his Chai and waited him out.

“You ever seen him perform? Heard him sing?” Henry asked. Eddie didn’t understand.

“Not yet, no. I’ve… seen the videos but I haven’t _watched them_ yet and –”

“I’m not scolding your research technique, Eddie. I don’t care about that, I just… think you should watch it. He’s good.”

“So… you’re killing him because he’s _good_?”

“It’s possible that I have clients who are interested in Tozier… not succeeding further in that world.”

“What the _fuck_?” Yeah, he was getting too old for this shit.

“ _Or_ , he just frequents my clubs, really gets under my skin, and I want him to die. Who cares?” Bowers laughed and Eddie took the well-being of his general psyche into his own hands and hung up the phone. What was the point of even trying to talk to him when he was such an unrepentant dick?

Eddie would just have to keep searching, keep researching the guy. There had to be some kind of reason, some drug debt or dark juvie history… something. _Anything_. Eddie really didn’t want to kill some guy for NO reason, not _again_.

###

Eddie had been stalking Richie non-stop for about 8 hours, flipping through different websites, fiddling with his butterfly knife, downing Red Bull, and getting absolutely _nowhere_. He was doing some _real_ dedicated research that really wasn’t necessary at all. He’d already crafted about 48 different ways that he could easily kill the man with no one knowing. He knew all his routines, all about his past, all about his favorite restaurants and movies, etc.

And there was no. Suspicious. Activity. At all.

Sure, he drank a little too much and he dabbled in drugs here and there, but there was no gambling and no angry drug dealer. No cheating or mysterious affairs. No extortion, blackmail, thievery – NOTHING. The kid was pretty much scot-free, which was impressive considering the level of fame he had amassed for himself. He wasn’t Santino Fontana or Jeremy Jordan levels of impressive, but he was _good_ and he had fans. His break-out role had been the male lead in Heathers, but he was currently headlining in the Broadway revival of Last Five Years, which was… notable. Really. And all of it was earned with talent, tried and true. At least, it seemed that way, since no big executives or well-known directors had been seen sleeping around with the man or receiving any large portions of his bank account.

Eddie was currently looking into that right now – at least that’s what he told himself, as he searched through the files on Richie’s current director’s cloud. He was looking for proof of shady dealings, nothing else, nothing creepy or personal or –

“OH bingo.” Eddie whispered out loud when he finally found it: _Richie’s audition video_. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, the director had said Richie’s audition had been far and away the most vulnerable and tear-jerking one they had seen. Richie himself also praised it as one of his best performances, so… Eddie wanted to see it.

 _“Hi, my name is Richie Tozier,”_ the on-screen Richie said and Eddie wrapped himself tighter in his afghan and settled into his armchair, “ _and I’ll be auditioning for the role of Jamie.”_

 _“Alright Richie, what song did you choose?”_ He looked super confident, standing there and soaking in the attention from the panel of people standing before him. Eddie was almost sold, only slightly catching on to the random tap of his foot, the way he’d shake out his fingers every once in a while. He _was_ nervous, he was just really good at hiding it – Eddie respected that.

 _“Nobody Needs to Know.”_ The panel hummed in consideration and Richie fidgeted a little more noticeably.

“ _Can I ask why?”_ One of the women on the side asked, “ _Why that and not one of Jamie’s earlier ones?”_

 _“Oh… sure, well, um, this may sound arrogant but I think… I think you guys already know that I can do that guy: the fun, charming, excited asshole whose dreams are unfolding before him.”_ Richie gestured to himself and the panel laughed. Eddie did too, because well, he was charming. _“You’ll be more impressed, I think, if you see I can be the broken, slightly unlikeable, desperate guy that Jamie veers off into.”_ They nodded and smiled. Richie seemed encouraged at their agreement and he stood a little taller as the music began to play.

 _“Hey kid… good morning… you look like an angel…_ ” he started to sing and Eddie was enraptured, immediately. Richie’s whole demeanor changed in an instant, shifting into something tense, melancholy, and fragile. It was intoxicating, and Eddie didn’t know the whole story of this musical, but he knew he was supposed to be mad at this character and he _was_. Richie wasn’t… likeable _exactly_ , but he was heartbreaking and real. He seemed one push from collapsing in on himself and that was just his acting. His _voice_ was so beautiful, strong, and penetrating. By the time the song faded out, Eddie realized his arms were wrapped tightly around himself and he was panting, so caught up in the intensity of the song that his heart was racing.

When it was all over, the room was silent. Richie’s shoulders were high and tense from the last note and when the music stopped, it was like his strings had been pulled. He sagged his shoulders and took a deep breath before running his hands through his curly hair and smiling, grinning wide and beautiful.

It took Eddie’s whole damn breath away. He exited out of the video eventually, staring down at the knife in his hand and remembering his assignment, the reality of it sinking into his chest like a lead weight.

“ _Fuck_.”

###

**_Back in the elevator_ **

“There is absolutely no way that I can do this for ten more minutes, let alone another two _hours_.” Eddie groaned from his burrow in the corner. After they’d finished their food and a slightly evasive conversation about their lives, the two of them had fell into a companionable silence. Honestly, Richie had almost fallen asleep. According to Eddie’s outburst though, he wasn’t nearly as relaxed about the whole situation as Richie was, which was understandable.

Richie was just _really_ fucking tired. It was now 10PM on a Sunday and he’d had two shows that day, so his whole body and brain were aching something fierce. He thought he could just have some Five Guys and masturbate for a little bit and then immediately fall asleep for 24 hours. But _no_ , of course not. He only got _2_ out of 3 of those things – unbelievable.

“I’m sorry, man, really, I am. But I don’t think you have a choice.” Richie said, gesturing to the enclosed space around them before closing his eyes again and trying to re-settle. Eddie huffed in response and Richie felt the elevator jostle as he stood up.

“I refuse to accept that. There _has_ to be a way out.” Eddie muttered. Richie cracked an eye open to watch him pace around the elevator, staring at the ceiling discerningly. To be honest, Richie hadn’t really hung out with new people one-on-one in a long time, but this Eddie guy seemed pretty weird. Even he could tell that.

“What are you doing?” Richie asked when Eddie stopped in the middle of the space and then reached up as far as he could. Then, when his hands didn’t touch the ceiling, he jumped, “Okay, let’s upgrade that. What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Richie repeated, earning a glare from Eddie, like _he_ was the crazy one.

“I’m seeing if there’s some way I can climb out of this death trap.” Eddie explained, jumping one more time and pushing in on one of the ceiling tiles.

“Jumping won’t help us get out. Jesus, we just met and you’re already intent on causing my death?” Richie bitched. Eddie stared at him with a blank face.

“You have no idea how funny that is.” Eddie said before returning to his futile endeavor.

“You’re _fucking_ insane.” Richie said, holding onto the railing as the elevator rocked, “What’s your plan once you get out, huh McGyver? Where you gonna go then?” Eddie took a moment to think about it and then shrugged.

“I’ll climb the rope and then pry open one of the elevator doors with my Swiss Army Knife.”

“I really don’t think elevators work that way.” Richie argued immediately, because… he didn’t know enough about elevators to argue but his instinct told him that was bullshit.

“How would you know how elevators work? Are you a fucking mechanic now?” Eddie snapped and okay, well, now Richie got it. Eddie didn’t necessarily want to leave the elevator, he just wanted to _fight_. He was anxious and pent up with all this frustration that he needed to get out. How fun.

“You don’t need to be a mechanic to know that idea is dumb as fuck, babe. You may be hot but you’re not _that_ smart, you know?”

“OH, fuck you,” Eddie hissed, pushing Richie away once, firmly, before jumping up at the ceiling again.

“You have _got to stop doing that_. You’re gonna make us plummet to our fucking death, dumbass.” Richie scolded, grabbing Eddie’s hips on instinct, to try and ground him. Eddie wasn’t having it though and twisted out of Richie’s grip immediately, pushing him back harder this time. Richie almost lost his footing but grabbed the bar of the elevator behind him.

“Well, that might solve some of my problems actually! And don’t fucking touch me, you dick!” Eddie yelled, punching Richie on the arm once. Richie winced and rubbed the spot, standing up straight and moving closer to Eddie in anger.

“Why are you being such an ass!” he yelled, “I’m stuck here too, you know! Stop taking all your anger out on me.”

“Oh _I’M THE ASS?”_ he yelled back and Richie rolled his eyes and pointed to his arm, which would undoubtedly bruise because _fuck_ that hurt.

“Yes! _You_ are definitely an ass.”

“ _You’re_ the ass!” Eddie parroted back, pushing Richie again. Richie laughed meanly and pushed Eddie back as well this time.

“Real fucking mature, Eds. Grow up.” Richie spit and Eddie’s glare in response could probably have cut glass. It was also, for some reason, really _really_ exciting. Richie loved this, arguing with Eddie. It was… fun. So much fun and it also felt like it was building towards something, the tension and irritation swelling in him and palpably heating the space around them.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not a child.” Eddie pushed him again and this time, Richie did hit the wall, but Eddie followed, not allowing their chests to stop touching.

“Stop acting like a _child_ and maybe I will.” Richie said. Eddie grabbed the collar of Richie’s shirt and for a second, Richie wasn’t sure if he was going to punch him in the face or…

 _Kiss_ him. And then he saw Eddie squeeze his eyes shut and the next second he felt his lips on his.

###

**_22 days before the elevator_ **

Eddie had seen Donnie Darko before. Stan liked the movie, despite his sharp and wicked critique of how pretentious and flawed it was, Eddie knew he liked it. They usually watched it when Stan was sick and wanted to lounge. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite, but Jake Gyllenhaal _was_ very cute, so he didn’t complain when the time came to pop in the well-used DVD.

Richie, however, loved the movie. It was his favorite – not the favorite that he told other people, though. That was The Princess Bride, but he loved it nonetheless. It was his most watched on Amazon Prime, at least, AND when a movie theater close to Richie’s apartment announced it was having a Jake Gyllenhaal-themed marathon, Richie had bought tickets right away. 

God, that sounded so lame to Eddie. Why buy TICKETS to see a movie that you own on your own computer? That just… it was stupid. And Eddie would NOT be attending.

He was still standing outside of the theater though, staring from across the street and debating going inside.

Mainly, Eddie was just _so_ tired of this job. Trailing Tozier was just… boring as fuck. And confusing! If it was JUST boring then, whatever, he wouldn’t be so pissy all the time. But why did Richie have to be so… so… _Richie_? He was so funny and smart, and why the fuck did he order so often on DoorDash? It literally cost _so much_ _more_ money; it frustrated Eddie ENDLESSLY. (At this point, Eddie wanted to order something on it just to see what the fuck all the fuss was about, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Basically $10 in additional fees? Get fucked. Weird shit would happen the day Eddie ordered on DoorDash; it would be a bad omen, he’s calling it.)

Anyway, he was bored of this whole Tailing-Tozier assignment he had. It was a lot of the same thing, so this time, he was thinking… maybe he could do something a little more interesting with it. Richie made plans to see the movie with his friend Kay…lee? Kaycee? Karley? Fuck, he didn’t remember. She wasn’t his tail so he didn’t need to know her. Anyway, Richie had bought two tickets, invited her, and now Eddie knew where he was going to be for like three solid hours. Maybe longer if Richie chose to stay for Brokeback Mountain or something. Eddie didn’t WANT to wait in his car and watch the flashing dot that said Richie was staying in one place – he could do that from the theater! Watching the movie! And having fun and … _not_ spying on what might be a date, that is NOT what he would be doing.

Eddie crossed the street with purpose, striding to the front to buy a ticket and one of those ugly Rabbit-Demon masks. He was doing this, because why the fuck not? He settled in to a seat right by the door. He knew Richie would sit in the row right behind him, because… he knew Richie’s patterns. He was close enough to watch out of the corner of his eye, but also not in a weird enough placement to look suspicious or draw attention. It was chill. 

“What the fuck.” Eddie groaned under his breath, because Richie was _alone_. Where was Kaylee-Kaycee-Karley? Eddie pulled out his phone, which was set up to get all the messages that Richie did as well, and saw that the girl had texted.

_Hey Richie, I’m really sorry – I don’t think I’m going to make it out after all :/ just don’t think this is working out. So sorry._

Eddie grimaced behind his mask as he read it. Breaking-up over text? Coward.

“You here alone, too?” Eddie heard all of a sudden. He looked behind him and saw Richie, looking right at him with a smile. Eddie felt his heart kickstart – _fuck_.

(He’d be lying to himself if he said this isn’t EXACTLY what he wanted to happen, EXACTLY what he was dreaming of when he walked up to the theater, but now that he was here… he just felt stupid. Especially in the mask.)

“Guess so.” He didn’t know why he slipped on an accent. His face was covered, he didn’t need to mask his _voice_ too. But oh well, he was committed now.

“I was supposed to be here with someone else, but she cancelled last minute. Kind of a bummer, but… life is what it is, right?” Richie mused. Eddie just hummed in response, mostly because he had nothing to say. He wasn’t sorry. Screw Kaylee-Kaycee-Karly.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Richie asked after realizing there was no response imminent. Eddie huffed, looking to the ceiling in disbelief.

“Not in movie theaters, no.” Eddie replied. He wanted to text Stan, complain about how much of a fucking idiot he was for taking this risk, but he just kept his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie and pretended he didn’t notice the buzzing excitement under his skin.

“Oh, right…” Richie said, and he trailed off for a moment. Eddie almost thought he’d been scolded enough, reminded of their surroundings to a point that he might actually stop talking. But Eddie also knew Richie a little too well at this point and he knew that nothing stopped Richie when he wanted to talk, “Well, barely anyone’s here yet. The trailers haven’t even started yet, just the ads, and other people are talking so-”

“Fucking hell.” Eddie muttered, biting his lip to keep from groaning louder in frustration. He could just _leave_. He sure as hell ran faster than Richie; he should’ve just booked it the fuck out of there and gone back to tracking Tozier with the bugs and GPS locaters.

But he didn’t. This infatuation was getting harder to deny.

“We should just talk,” Richie continued, hopping over the seat in front of him so he was in Eddie’s row, “Where are you from?” See what Eddie was talking about before? This guy was just _so Richie_. Who the fuck just asks a stranger in the movie theater where they’re from? Like, obviously no one comes ALONE to a MOVIE THEATER trying to make friends! Fuck off, bro!

(But Eddie didn’t say that, because… like… don’t fuck off, bro.)

“Moscow.” It wasn’t too much of a lie, also wasn’t too much of a truth either, but Richie didn’t need to know that. Even if a part of Eddie wanted him to.

“No fucking way. Really?” Richie asked. He seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t that just fucking adorable.

“Da.” Eddie replied, instead of the _why the fuck would I lie about that?_ Which was what he was thinking.

“That’s hot.”

“Russia is actually very cold, if you didn’t know.”

“Ha. You’re cute, too.” Richie said, “Cute and funny. Hey, wanna sit together for the movie? Since we’re both here alone?”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asked. He couldn’t believe it was _actually happening_ , Richie was actually talking to him even though his face was covered with a fucking bunny mask.

“Well, yeah. I love this movie and I don’t like watching things alone, so.” Richie explained with a shrug.

“How come?” Eddie asked. He loved seeing movies by himself – that was the only way he went to see movies, usually, unless Bill was dragging him somewhere.

“I don’t know. I think I get a little _too_ lost in it if I don’t have someone next to me, grounding me. You know what I mean?” Richie asked and Eddie just shook his head, because _no_. He did not know what he meant. However, it did make sense, for what Eddie knew of Richie. He did seem easily lost in imagination.

“I have to move to you?” Eddie asked, grabbing his drink out of the cupholder and getting ready to relocate. Richie grinned widely at the assumed victory.

“You do. I’m sitting in the middle, which is obviously better. AND, hey, you have the bunny mask, I kind of look like Jake Gyllenhaal – we have to look like the scene in the movie. They’re in the middle of the row.” Richie explained, making Eddie chuckle.

“Well, I can’t argue with that. Life really does need to imitate art.” Eddie quipped before sliding into the seat next to Richie. This was, without a doubt, the closest he’d been to him since he’d got this assignment. Eddie’s skin was prickled with goosebumps.

“Exactly,” Richie was still grinning at Eddie as he stuck out his hand, “I’m Richie, by the way.” Eddie looked at the hand for a moment before taking it firmly in his own for one quick shake.

“Georg- um, Georgie. You can call me Georgie.” Eddie lied, stuttering slightly and rolling his eyes at himself immediately. He was better than that.

“You sure?” Richie asked, teasing him a little for the slip.

“Yes, sorry. People call me George at work and I got so used to introducing myself there. I guess I’m not as used to introducing myself to _friends_. Which is kind of embarrassing.” Eddie laughed nervously, but Richie just smiled and leaned back in his seat.

“That’s not embarrassing.”

“I mean, I _do_ have friends!” Eddie argued, playing up a little awkwardness, “I promise! I just… haven’t really made new ones since high school.” Which, again, wasn’t that much of a lie. The best lies are planted in a kernel of truth, after all.

“Ahhh, _No new friends, no new friends_ ,” Richie sang, bobbing his head, “Riding with your day ones, I get it.” Eddie groaned and leaned back as well, settling into his seat comfortably.

“You _would_ be a Drake fan.” Eddie teased.

“You aren’t?”

“I mean… he has his moments, but he’s not my favorite.” Eddie admitted with a shrug. He wasn’t Richie’s favorite either, he knew that. Richie liked Simon and Garfunkel the best, followed closely by Pat Benatar and anything from the 80’s he could sing loudly with.

“Who is your favorite?” Richie asked, sipping from his soda and staring intently at Eddie.

“My favorite rapper? Or favorite musician in general?” Eddie asked. Richie gulped his drink and waved his hand.

“Musician.”

“Well… I really like lyrics. Lyricists are who I favor, more than vocals, but…” Eddie said and this time he was being honest. For some reason, he didn’t want to lie about this.

“Okay, so who would it be?” Richie pushed.

“I mean, you probably won’t know most of them, but If I had to pick one? Well, you _might_ -”

“Jesus, Georgie, stop with the teasing. You’ve got me hooked, I wanna know.” Richie complained, laughing.

“Okay! Okay, the one you’ll probably know is A Tribe Called Quest.” Eddie said. Richie immediately sat up straighter and nodded.

“Yeah! I know them. _The fog in the smog of news media that logs false narratives of gods that came up against the odds._ ” Richie quoted, head bobbing to the beat.

“Yes! I love that song! _When we get hungry, we eat the same fucking food_ -”

“ _The Ramen noodle_.” They said at the same time, laughing. Eddie felt his stomach bloom with warmth and ignored any warning lights softly blaring in the back of his head.

“Fucking good choice, Georgie,” Richie praised as he tossed back some popcorn, “I haven’t listened to them in so long.”

“Well, I’m glad to have reintroduced you.” Eddie shrugged, reaching over to grab some popcorn from Richie’s bag.

“I do appreciate it… so, you’re from Moscow, huh?” Richie asked.

“I am.”

“When did you get to New York?” _This_ story Eddie had memorized – it was one he got asked pretty often. Even when he didn’t fake an accent, it was a common staple of conversation.

“When I was young, about 11 or 12 my family moved me out here for school. New York has been home base ever since.” Eddie explained. Richie’s eyes widened.

“Ahhh, so you’re a _true_ New Yorker. That’s not hard to believe.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well… it takes a solid stock to survive here. You have to be… well, _mean_. And you seem…”

“Mean?” Eddie filled in for him, smiling under the mask. Richie couldn’t see that though and he winced awkwardly.

“In the best of ways,” Richie insisted, “Way stronger than me.” He said with a snort.

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. I can’t handle this city. At _all_.” Richie laughed but Eddie could tell he was saying something serious, something he’d worried over.

“Why are you here then?” he asked, although he knew the answer already. Richie shrugged and fiddled with the straw of his drink.

“For work.” Richie said and Eddie waited for him to elaborate.

“What do you do for work?” Eddie pushed. Richie blushed slightly and Eddie was slightly ecstatic to see Richie looking shy. He hadn’t yet had the pleasure.

“Oh, I’m an actor. On Broadway.” Richie shrugged as if it was nothing. Eddie might have let it lie, if he didn’t know exactly how big of a deal it actually was. And he wanted to see if he could get Richie to _really_ blush.

“That’s so cool! Are you like an extra or something? In anything I’d know?” Eddie asked and Richie blew out a breath.

“I’m actually the lead. _In The Last Five Years._” Richie said, rushing the words out quickly. Eddie took the expected amount of time to pause in surprise before speaking.

“Oh wow! That’s… even I’ve heard of that show, _damn_. I’m impressed, Richie.” His smile was shy and sweet in response, making Eddie’s heart beat a little faster.

“Thanks, man. It’s been… yeah, it’s been pretty great.” Richie said and… huh. That was weird. Eddie squinted at him through the mask, taking a moment to read his body language and try to parse out the tone of that delivery. It sounded… forced. Fake.

“That wasn’t convincing.” Eddie remarked. Richie winced and shrugged as casually as he could, “You’re not happy to have this job?” That was actually surprising. Eddie knew how hard the man had worked to get to where he is now. He knew he had the talent, the drive, the perseverance – he had no idea this life might not be what Richie really wanted.

“It’s… fine. I mean, Broadway is an amazing accomplishment and I’ve wanted it for so long… it’s just…” he trailed off, staring at his hands in thought for a long moment.

“It’s just what?” Eddie prompted gently.

“Nothing is ever perfect, you know? This job has been my life’s goal for so long and I finally got here. I guess at this point, I’m kind of like… what’s next?” Richie finally looked up at Eddie and bit his lip, nervous, “Does that make sense?” Eddie nodded and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah? You get bored easily too?” Richie laughed. Eddie shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

“Not bored, exactly. I just get stir-crazy pretty easy. I don’t like being in one place for too long. Come to speak of it, I’m getting pretty tired of New York at the moment.” Eddie admitted. That was so very fucking true. He wanted to get the hell out of dodge, not just because New York meant Bowers and owed favors, but just because it had been _over a year here_. Eddie was dying inside.

“God, me too. Where would you go? If you could?”

“Oh… I’ve been thinking about Switzerland, lately. You ever been?” Eddie said, again, too honestly. Richie lit up though, just like Eddie knew he would.

“I haven’t, but I’ve _always_ wanted to go. That’s so funny you sai-”

Richie couldn’t finish whatever he was going to say though, because the lights dimmed and the trailers for the movie began loudly, effectively distracting their conversation. Eddie was only a little frustrated by that, but he took comfort in the fact that Richie seemed just as annoyed as he did.

“By the way,” Richie whispered as the trailers rolled, so close to Eddie’s ear that it made him fight a shiver, “I’m sorry if I move too much during the movie. I get pretty fidgety staying still for too long… plus, well I’m gay so.” Eddie choked on a laugh, glad for the distraction from how hot it was getting in there.

“Oh, I forgot,” Eddie said without looking away from the screen, “Gays are incapable of sitting still.” Richie stared at him for a long moment until he turned his head to see the problem.

“Um, yes, that is a universal truth.” Richie finished when he finally got his complete attention. Eddie laughed and shook his head, turning back to the screen.

“Well, I think I can handle it.” Eddie muttered.

“Oh, good to know.” he replied as he smiled and kept staring at the side of Eddie’s head. Eventually, he settled back in his seat, looking at the screen as he stretched his arm over Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie looked at the hand on his left shoulder and squinted in confusion for a second. Richie cleared his throat and Eddie turned to look at him instead.

“Sorry, I said I was fidgety.” Richie whispered with a smile. Eddie grinned and rolled his eyes.

“That’s not like any fidget I’ve seen before.” Eddie laughed, settling into the embrace. His stomach felt like it was filled with helium and he knew his cheeks were red. Thank God for the mask.

Which… speaking of… it was dark in the theater. His face would be obscured in part by the darkness anyway. Did he really need to keep the mask on the _whole_ movie? It felt kind of silly and the plastic was digging into Eddie’s cheek in a slightly uncomfortable way. He could take it off – let Richie see his face. What would be the big deal? He’d done it before and he sincerely doubted Richie would be able to put those very separated pieces together.

Eddie fingered the edge of his mask before pushing it off completely, pulling it over his head and ruffling his hair slightly. Richie turned to look at him quickly, smiling a little at Eddie’s profile. Eddie bit his lip and resolutely didn’t turn or acknowledge that anything happened. Richie settled after a moment of unsubtle staring, looking back at the screen with the smile still in place.

And then, suddenly, triggered by who-knows-what, Eddie realized how fucking stupid he was being. Maybe it was the glimpse of white blonde hair from the guy in front of him, looking a little too much like Bowers. Maybe it was the trailer running for that new Barry show that reminded him of the reality of his life. Or maybe it was just Eddie’s common sense deciding to come back online when it realized how much Eddie was enjoying the contact with Richie, but either way, his heart beat suddenly slowed to a calm and he realized with utter certainty that he had to leave.

He mumbled an excuse to Richie, something about the bathroom, and then rushed off, not bothering with his soda or popcorn, or even the mask. He just had to get out of there, away from Richie, as fast as possible.

What the _fuck_ had gotten into him? Was he fucking insane? He’d never done anything like that before, gotten so needlessly close to a mark – he was GOOD at this job. He was! What was it about Richie that made him make these stupid risks? What was it about that man that made him want to throw everything he knew out the fucking window?

Eddie had never felt like this before – like his world had been tilted off its axis before and had now finally settled in to place. But… now that things were tilted correctly, the amendments and accommodations he’d made before seemed wrong. The things that seemed normal _then_ were now painfully and obviously wrong. In fact, the only thing that felt right was being with Richie.

And speak of the devil, there Richie was… walking out of the theater, looking confused and – _sad_? Richie stopped in the middle of the atrium and scanned the room. Eddie watched out of the corner of his eye from his table not too far from him; he wasn’t too worried about being spotted without the mask – Richie may have gotten a glimpse of his face but he had no real idea what Eddie looked like, really. Plus, Eddie was always best at blending in. Richie seemed to realize his chances as well, after a moment. His shoulders sunk and he breathed out a tired sigh.

“So much for not being alone today,” Richie muttered before scrubbing his hands over his face once. Then, he rolled his sleeve up for a second, glanced at his watch, and then shook his head, “Guess I might as well go.”

###

**_Back in the elevator_ **

“Umm… I just kissed you.” Eddie said, pulling back slowly, his eyes still closed. Richie didn’t let him go far, though, and kept a firm grip on his waist.

“You did. That was nice.” Richie said honestly. Eddie cracked open one eye then, maybe to see if Richie was being serious.

“Unexpected, though.” Eddie breathed as he opened both eyes. Richie made a face and noise of uncertainty.

“Was it though?” Richie squeaked and Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“You saw it coming?”

“I mean… there’s been an obvious tension building here. A certain _je ne sais quoi_.”

“I don’t think that means what you’re trying to say.”

“I dunno, I don’t speak French. Anyway, I’m glad it happened.” Richie grinned, leaning in close again, bringing a hand up to Eddie’s chin, “It’s a pretty good way to pass time, you know?” Their lips were about to touch again when Eddie put up some resistance, stopping them short.

“I don’t like being called predictable.” Eddie whispered, eyes unreadable and voice deep. Richie felt heat shoot through him at the tone, and he squirmed forward as much as he could, but Eddie was still just out of reach.

“Not _predictable_ , just…”

“Easy?”

“Exactly.” Richie agreed too quickly, looking for a way out before comprehending exactly what he just said. Eddie’s offended expression helped that meaning sink in real quick, though. “Oh shit, wait no, not EASY, just easy to _read_ … well no, there was just a lot of… and you’re hot and maybe it was wishful thinking but I think-” Eddie put his hand over Richie’s mouth, cutting off his rambling. Richie sighed in relief.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Eddie deadpanned before leaning in again. He moved his hand to slip into Richie’s hair and kissed him again, slow and sweet in stark comparison to the prior kiss. Before it was frantic and desperate, born of irritation and tension. This was much fonder, to a degree that almost confused Richie. It was much too intimate for two people who had just met, but Richie still sunk into it, wrapping his arms tightly around Eddie and pulling him close. Eddie adjusted against him, moving even closer and their hips grinded together, making both of them groan. Richie dropped his hands down to the small of Eddie’s back, wanting to keep him as close as possible when his hands ran over a suspicious bulge.

Huh.

“Okay…” Richie said as both of them froze, “I have a general enough grasp of the human anatomy, so I _don’t_ think this means you’re just happy to see me.” Eddie didn’t say anything in response, so Richie did something stupid and slipped his hand under the cloth of Eddie’s shirt to feel the cold steel of a _gun_. Richie’s grip must’ve triggered (haha) something in Eddie though, because the second he touched it, Eddie was moving back and frantic.

“Oh my God! What are you doing? Don’t you know it’s rude to touch another man’s gun?” Eddie snapped and Richie laughed manically.

“What the fuck? No I don’t know that! Why would I know that? And why do you have a GUN right now? Oh my GOD!” Eddie scowled before turning away, running his hands over his face angrily.

“This is so stupid oh my GOD I am so stupid. Stan would have a FIELD DAY if he saw me right now, let alone Bill oh my GOD.”

“What? Who is Bill?” Richie asked, trying to get a handle on anything going on. Eddie was going a little red in the face with all his rambling and didn’t seem to hear him at all.

“I don’t know WHAT has happened to all of my training. I have SNAPPED. SNAPPED! Officially, Eddie Kaspbrak Officially Needs a Nap. _That_ is what is going on – Forget my past, forget all my impressive accomplishments, I have downgraded! I am the _worst_ assassin _ever_ and-”

“Assassin?” Richie asked instinctively, stomach dropping. Was that why he had a gun? Richie lived in the same building as an assassin?! God, New York was weird.

Eddie finally seemed to hear him and turned with an exasperated look on his face.

“Do you mind?” Eddie asked, gesturing around him. Richie didn’t understand, staring at the empty space around him in confusion.

“What?” Richie asked, irritation creeping into his confusion.

“I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“With _yourself_?” Richie asked incredulously and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“ _Yes_! I’m the only good company in this elevator!”

“You are literally having a mental breakdown and _I’m_ the lesser conversationalist?”

“I would have to say that’s true, yes.”

“You are such a dick, man, I’m just trying to help!”

“Well you suck at it!”

“Fuck you, dude.”

“ _Stop_ cursing at me! You _really_ shouldn’t curse at the person hired to KILL you! Where is your fucking self-preservation, Richard?”

Eddie’s scream echoed through the silent elevator as Richie took a moment to process those words because… _what_?

“Umm, pardon?” Richie asked, staring at Eddie’s wide eyes and open mouth, “Did you just say… you were hired to _kill me_?”

The two of them were silent for another long moment.

“…no.”

**_###_ **

**_4 days before the elevator_ **

“Eddie, when have I ever let you down?” Ben said comfortingly, his voice only slightly distorted by the ruckus behind him. Eddie laughed once, wiping away the tears that had spread under his eyes.

“Um, I’m sure there’s a time, but I can’t think of one right now.” Eddie managed, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose. Ben, of course, was kind enough not to say anything about the noise.

“Well, as the only one in this conversation with a photographic memory, I can tell you that its never happened.” Ben teased. Eddie missed him so much. He moved to the mirror, checking his reflection to make sure he looked more put together than he felt.

“I don’t think that’s how photographic memories work. It may help you forge a Rembrandt but it can’t tell you what you had for breakfast three months ago.”

“Waffles and fruit, baby.” Ben replied quickly. Eddie just laughed and rolled his eyes.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Ehh, fine, _that_ you may be right about,” Ben allowed. Eddie collapsed onto the couch, pulling the afghan over his legs and taking a deep breath, “Hey, listen, Ed. Whatever happens here, whatever you decide to do, it’ll be alright. You’re the smartest guy I know. No one else I know navigates out of a shitty situation better than you do, you know that?”

“Whatever you say, Ben.” Eddie replied, biting at the corner of his thumb and eyeing the flashing light on his computer that told him Richie was still at rehearsal.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.” He reassured once more.

“Thanks, Ben.” Eddie said, genuinely. Right as he did, his front door unlocked and started to swing open, “Oh, that’s Stan. I gotta go.” Stan walked into the hallway, tossing his shoulder bag on the counter and smiling at Eddie.

“Tell him Bev and I send love.” Ben said quickly.

“I will! Bye, Ben.” Eddie said before hanging up the phone. Stan looked surprised as he took the seat next to Eddie.

“Was that our Ben?” he asked. Eddie nodded as leaned back into the couch, relaxed.

“Yeah, it was. He and Bev say hi.” Eddie repeated and Stan smiled happily. Bev was probably Stan’s closest friend, other than Eddie, but with their profession they didn’t all get to see each other very often, unfortunately.

“How are they doing?”

“Good, I think. Ben said they just flew into Romania.”

“Oh, they finished up the Bangkok job?”

“Must’ve.”

“Good… good for them.” Stan smiled fondly and Eddie couldn’t help but do the same. Ben and Bev were good people, and Eddie knew that Stan wished he was with them, doing more jobs, more things they were good at, _helping_ people. Sure, they did shady things and had some… illegal habits when it came to solving problems, but there was always a noble goal in the end. Killing serial killers or redistributing wealth, things like that. But for the last few months, the two of them had been stuck in New York, running morally ambiguous errands until this fucking deal with Bowers was up. They were both a little stir-crazy, if you hadn’t noticed yet.

“So, what’s new with you, Eddie?” Stan asked as he grabbed the remote off Eddie’s coffee table and started flicking through Hulu. Eddie took a second to slow his heart rate, calm his breathing. He couldn’t lie to Stan, he knew that… well, okay, he _could_. Lying was kind of Eddie’s _thing_ but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lie to Stan, especially since he was currently Eddie’s only friend in New York. He wanted him to know the truth, but also… he didn’t want him to be pissed.

“I’m feeling extra shitty about this last Bowers assignment.” Eddie managed after a moment. He said it as the picture of calm, but Stan still dropped the remote on the cushion and turned to face him, all business.

“What do you mean? The actor one?” Stan asked and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, it just… it feels gratuitous, man.” Eddie tried. It was only half of an explanation, but it was a start. Stan knew that.

“I know what you mean. This shit for Bowers, it’s not… right. And after your last job, I’m sure you’re-”

“I _don’t_ want to talk about that.” Eddie snapped, voice steel cold. Stan nodded and put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I know… I know. But, Eddie, we knew this is what it would be like when we took the deal. And this is why we volunteered, you and me, and not Mike or Ben or Bill or-”

“Stan, I get it. I prepared for this but somehow this one just feels… random. I didn’t prepare for random, I prepared for petty and violent and vindictive. I mean, Bowers won’t even tell me why he wants the kid dead. He just says something about a client not wanting his success? Since when the fuck does Bowers have clients who care about BROADWAY? It feels… it doesn’t make sense.”

“Senseless violence is kind of Bowers’ thing though, Eddie.” Stan reasoned, voice soft, and Eddie looked away, feeling petulant and immature.

“I just don’t wanna do it.” Eddie whispered, out of things to say without giving everything away. Stan was quiet for a moment.

“If you want _me_ to…”

“ _NO_ ,” Eddie insisted, grabbing his hand and shaking his head, “It’s my assignment. And you still have a promise to keep, after Belarus-”

“You made that promise too-”

“And it’s worked out that I’m the only one who had to break it. So let’s keep it that way, yeah? No more innocent blood on your hands.” Eddie smiled, patting Stan once on the cheek to emphasize the end of the discussion.

“Eddie, I-”

“I’ll be okay, Stan. I promise. One more job and I’ll get us out of this.” Eddie assured him. His mind was racing, but Stan needed him to be strong. All of his friends needed him to be strong, actually. That was what Eddie had always told himself when he was in tough situations, when they were in a problem no one else could find their way out of. He just… pulled through. Because otherwise, his friends would be hurt. He’d take a hundred hits if it meant his friends didn’t have to and there was no way around that.

That’s partly why it was so fucking inconvenient that Richie made him feel so weak.

###

Stan had left his apartment about an hour ago. After their conversation, where Eddie had revealed about 25% of what he had meant to initially, the two of them had lounged on the couch for a few hours, watching random movies as Eddie did pretty pointless re-con on Richie. He’d been at rehearsal all day, so there wasn’t much for him to actually do.

Eddie was now alone on his couch, sucking on a raspberry tootsie pop and back at it again with his butterfly knife, watching Richie’s GPS dot blinking away, stationary and boring. Eventually, it started moving and Eddie payed attention with only minimal excitement. If Richie was following his usual Friday night routine, he would be headed to any of the three clubs he frequented in Brooklyn. _How wild_.

So, Eddie didn’t know _why_ the idea popped in his head. It was probably because he had been talking to Ben. Thinking of Ben and clubs made him think of that night in Barcelona when he, Ben, and Mike had danced all night, for hours on end, and only when their feet were so blistered that they _had_ to sit down did they stop. _God_ , Eddie loved to dance and in the past three months of virtual _slavery_ he had almost forgot.

He shot up in his lounge chair and looked around the room for a moment, mentally debating what was undoubtedly a very _very_ stupid thing to do. But FUCK, he wanted it. Weeks of watching Richie and _wanting_ Richie and wanting to have _fun_ were welling up inside of him, pushing reason aside. So, Eddie blocked out the thoughts that had Stan’s voice, grabbed his tightest skinny jeans and cutest crop top, and decided to go dance… in the general vicinity of Richie. Not WITH him, just _near_ him.

What could go wrong?

It was relatively easy to find Richie once he got there, the man being about 6’3” and all, combined with the fact that the dance floor was a little lower than the rest of the bar, down some stairs. Still, Eddie was a little cooler than just making a bee-line for the man. Instead, he drifted forwards through the dense crowd and made a place at the bar, ordering a whiskey neat – just to feel a buzz as fast as possible. He was starting to feel stupid, forgetting the drive he initially had to come to this place. He’d been close to Richie before and it didn’t help anything, so why do it now? Why just make everything worse?

Eddie swallowed the rest of his whiskey and turned around, ready to book it the fuck out of there, but then he _saw_ him again. There was just… _something_ about Richie that Eddie couldn’t deny. He was obsessed with the way he laughed and the way his grin offset the sadness behind his eyes. Eddie was walking towards him before he even really knew what he was doing.

It was easy to blend in with the crowd as he got closer. This wasn’t the kind of club people came to with friends, to dance in a big group. This was a hook-up spot, bodies grinding with anyone near them, aching for closeness and touch. It was so easy for Eddie to work his way close to him without any suspicion, slowly but surely. As he got closer, he turned around. For some reason his training chose to kick in and he didn’t want to reveal his face, even if he wanted as much of Richie _on him_ as possible. Showing his face still seemed like too much to give away.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, soaking up the ambience. Tilting his head back, he started to dance, just enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by people, almost letting himself forget why he was here, _why_ excitement buzzed in his veins. But then, strong arms wrapped around his waist. He startled for a moment, but Eddie didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was – he knew Richie almost as well as he knew himself at this point. The big hands spread over his ribs and stomach for a moment before sliding down to grip his hips, pulling him back against his warm, swaying body. Eddie resisted the urge to moan because they fit together exactly as well as he thought they would. Eddie rolled his hips back, right into the cradle of Richie’s hips and Richie sighed in his ear, breath hot and giving Eddie tingles.

“Damn.” Richie whispered and Eddie smiled as he ran one hand up Richie’s bicep to rest on the back of his neck, “Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?” he asked, a grin in his voice. Eddie barked out a laugh, thinking _two apartment buildings above you, monitoring your every move_. He shook off that thought though, knowing it would pull him out of the moment, and instead just let him enjoy how right it felt to be in Richie’s arms. They moved together fluidly, bodies matching the sensual beat that rocked through the club. Eddie leaned his head back against Richie’s neck and the man’s lips caressed the arch of exposed skin, making Eddie’s eyes flash open.

Of course, that was a huge mistake. Because what did he see? _Stan_. Stan was standing at the bar, staring at Eddie with an open mouth and a blank face. When he saw that Eddie noticed him, he snapped his mouth shut, threw back the drink in his hand and gestured to the back door of the club, fury coiled in every step as he made his way out.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie whispered. He’d tensed up, stopped moving, and Richie had noticed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. He started to grip Eddie’s hips a little tighter, as if to pull him to turn around, but Eddie slipped out of his grip and went to follow Stan.

“Wait!” Richie called after him, grabbing Eddie’s hand and not letting go. Eddie turned around, instinctively and met Richie’s confused eyes with a soft gasp.

“I’m really sorry.” He said. His voice was probably drowned out by the music, but Richie let his hand go anyway and Eddie pushed his way through the crowd and out of the club, head and heart pounding wildly. The silence of the world outside hit him like a slap to the face and he walked as smoothly as he could to where he knew Stan would be, waiting and angry and annoyed (at Eddie).

“What the FUCK are you doing, Eddie?” Stan growled, the second Eddie turned the corner towards the back alley of the club. Yup, angry and annoyed. Eddie steeled himself, gripping his hands into fists and slipping his face into a mask of indifference.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Stan? I’m following a mark.”

“Following a mark? Oh please, it LOOKS like you were grinding on someone you’re supposed to monitoring from a _distance_! Fucking hell, Eddie, when you said you were having doubts about this case, I didn’t know it was because you wanted to fuck the guy! That would’ve been useful information to include!” Stan yelled. He was angry, veins popping, cheeks red, chest heaving, the whole nine yards. Eddie didn’t let himself rise to that level, mostly because he knew he was entirely in the wrong here – he had to hold onto some dignity.

“It’s not that I want to fuck him, Stan it’s more comp-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, Eddie, because I swear to f… oh my GOD, Eddie, is that why you were on the phone with BEN? Because you have FEELINGS FOR THIS GUY?” Stan took a step towards Eddie and he instinctively took one back. Eddie was Stan’s friend and he trusted him, but he was angry and he also knew Stan didn’t pose an unformidable threat.

“Stan, come on.” Eddie tried to reason, but Stan wouldn’t have it. He was too smart to let Eddie talk his way out of this.

“Why _else_ would you call Ben, the most romantic fucker on our team, if not to _vent_ about your _feelings_ -”

“Stan! There _are_ OTHER reasons to call Ben!” Eddie shouted, staring at Stan meaningfully, waiting for it to sink in. Stan looked confused, startled, for just a moment but then he sighed, anger leaving him in a moment. His limbs loosened as the fight left him and he just seemed tired. Stan shook his head as he stared at his friend.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. What are you doing?” he asked, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t a question that needed an answer, “Bowers is an idiot, sure, but he’s a _mean_ idiot, Ed. A mean and persistent idiot with a lot of sick people at his disposal. We _need_ to clear this debt.”

“I know.”

“You _can’t_ fuck him over, Eddie.”

“I know!” Eddie snapped, quiet in his anger this time, moving as close to Stan as possible. They were out of Bowers’ territory, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t paranoid, “You think I haven’t thought through and analyzed every fucking possibility? You think I don’t know how fucked this situation is? I do!”

“Then why are you doing this? Eddie, you haven’t even KNOWN the guy a month! You’ve barely even interacted with him. This doesn’t make _sense_.” Stan pointed out. He was a logic guy, 100% – same as Eddie (most of the time). Stan, Bev, and Eddie – they were always the logical ones. Mike, Bill, and Ben – _they_ lead with their hearts. _They_ were the ones who got into dumbass situations like this because of emotion, not Eddie.

“I…” Eddie didn’t know what to say. He thought about the past couple months, the last job, the fight with Pennywise, Belarus… all leading up to that night on the swing set… they weren’t _separate_ things. They were all connected and at the center of the web was Eddie, falling apart. “I’m cracked, Stan. These past few years, I’ve been doing too much. This job is really _fucking_ hard and especially recently, I’ve had to give up _so many things_ that I want. And Richie… he feels right, Stan. I look at him and I feel… so many things, but most of all it feels _good_. I haven’t felt good like that in a long time. So I want him. I _want_ him.”

“Eddie-” Stan started, voice raw, but Eddie didn’t stop.

“I know it’s stupid and childish, I do, Stan, I promise. You know me, I am a textbook over-thinker so please believe that I _know_ … and I also know I have a huge decision to make and it won’t be easy. But please, Stan, please know that I will never _ever_ let anything happen to you. I will figure this out. Just give me some time and I _swear_ , Stan, I will. I will figure out a way out of this.” Eddie said. He sounded a little crazy but also more confident than he felt was honest. Stan stared at him for a long moment, dark brown eyes discerning. Eddie loved him so much. He knew Stan was scared and he knew that Eddie’s behavior wasn’t… _encouraging_ , but he needed him to _trust_ him.

“You better,” Stan said after a moment. He moved closer, resting their foreheads together and gripping Eddie’s neck firmly, “Because I’m not letting you die for a fucking mark.”

###

**_Back in the elevator_ **

“You don’t sound upset.” Eddie said, after the silence following his confession became a little too much to bear. Richie’s eyes darted to him, finally moving from the tile in the corner he had been staring at for the whole conversation.

“I guess I’m… not.” Richie admitted with an actual _shrug_. Eddie took a moment to decipher and decided he did sound genuine. He wasn’t fucking with him; he was actually… calm.

“You seem entirely fine.” Eddie reiterated and Richie nodded.

“I pretty much am.”

“Well then, you’re an idiot. No self-preservation.” Eddie decided. Richie laughed once, smiling widely. He liked when Eddie got all annoyed like that, liked that some of his personality shined through a little bit, broke past the mask.

“That isn’t _entirely_ tr-”

“No, it _is_ true, Richie, because I _know_ you. I’ve spent _weeks_ studying you. You completely lack self-preservation. You are also totally reckless and self-deprecating. You’re _self-sabotaging_ even though you are capable of working harder than anyone I know. You are naturally so fucking intelligent, it’s kind of infuriating. You speak way too loud in small spaces. You say the smartest, most insightful things when you’re talking to yourself and the dumbest shit ever when you’re around people you care about. You have so many people who want to be your friend and yet you reFUSE to let anyone in. You have an insane talent to make yourself exquisitely vulnerable to complete strangers but you kill yourself over the fact that you only once or twice told your little sister that you loved her before she died. You eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast _and_ dessert. You cry watching perfume commercials and I am just so 100% certain that you don’t deserve to die.” Eddie took a giant breath after his rant, feeling tears of anger prick behind his eyes. He dropped his face into his hands so he didn’t have to see Richie’s reaction.

“… wow.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Eddie choked out, breaking Richie’s heart only a little.

“Don’t be. I didn’t know…. anyone noticed me that much.” Which sounded a little sad, but it was true. Richie had existed in his own bubble for so long, the idea of anyone analyzing him to that degree was a little fascinating. Existing in someone else’s mind… wow. Eddie didn’t say anything in reply, though, just squeezed his eyes shut tighter, head tilted back now.

“I think there is something you don’t know about me, though.” Richie offered. Eddie opened one eye to glare at Richie with.

“Is there.” The delivery was deadpanned, because it probably wasn’t true.

“I remember you.” Richie said and Eddie’s head shot up.

“No, you fucking don’t.” Richie grinned at Eddie’s annoyance.

“I do.”

“You _don’t_.”

“I _do_.”

“Which time?” Eddie asked, almost smug, but Richie wasn’t deterred.

“The café. The movie theater. The _club_.” Richie winked at the last one. It was only through Eddie’s training that he didn’t blush. He was good at hiding emotions still, at least.

“The park?” Eddie asked, his one trump card. Richie looked confused and that wasn’t surprising. It was a while ago. It was before…

“ _Huh_?”

“Thought so. It doesn’t matter anyway.” Eddie huffed, not pouting, just crossing his arms and sticking out his bottom lip and internally complaining endlessly.

“Oh right… because any second you could get a text telling you that you need to blow my head off. In a way that looks suicidal. And if you choose to not do that, you’re risking a psychopathic mob boss chasing you around the globe to take a pound of flesh from you and your friends.” Richie said, almost nonchalantly. Fucking asshole.

“Yup. That would be the reason.” Eddie snipped, faux-cheerful.

“Well, look at the bright side. I mean, there’s no service in this elevator at least. And this isn’t moving anytime soon, so-” Right as Richie said that, the lights of the elevator flickered back on and they started moving up. Eddie almost laughed at the irony.

“Unlucky as well. Did I mention that one before? You’re extremely unlucky.” Eddie added, making Richie laugh.

“Well, I got to spend the last hour trapped in an elevator with a hot boy who likes me, so there’s that.”

“A hot boy who likes you but is also supposed to assassinate you.” Eddie emphasized, ignoring the way Richie grinned when he repeated that he liked him. Fucking dork needed to get his priorities straight.

“Oh shit, am I important enough to be assassinated?” Richie asked, lighting up. Eddie groaned and slumped back into the wall.

“Can we please change the subject? I’m getting a migraine.” Eddie whined, and Richie slid a little closer to him, placing a comforting, if slightly tentative, hand on his thigh.

“My sister, Anabelle… you mentioned her,” Richie started and Eddie nodded, “When we were in high school, anytime she had to make a big decision she would ask me – well, ask is a nice way of putting it, she would _force_ me to make her a grilled cheese and tomato soup. It was, and is, my specialty. And, since you definitely have a big decision to make… you wanna come over and I’ll make you one?”

“Richie, you just ate an entire bag of Five Guys in front of me and now you –”

“It’s for you! Not me. I’m doing a nice thing for you, my dedicated little assassin.” The doors to Richie’s floor pinged open and Richie stood up, reaching down a hand to help Eddie up as well.

“You coming?” Eddie stared at the hand for a moment before sighing and grabbing it in his own.

“Why the hell not.” Richie pulled him up and their hands lingered together for a moment longer than necessary before they parted, Richie taking the lead. Eddie, of course, knew exactly where they were going, but it would probably be a little unsettling for Richie if he lead the way, especially since they had never been in the apartment building at the same time before. Not that Richie knew of, at least.

“Prepare yourself, Eds my man,” Richie said as he unlocked the door and walked inside, throwing his jacket over the armchair in the living room, “For the best grilled cheese sandwich ever prepared by the most handsome man in New York City and – why aren’t you coming in?” Richie asked, because when he turned around, Eddie was still standing in the doorway. His phone was in his right hand, his gun in his left.

“Oh,” Richie muttered, his stomach dropping to his toes, “Is this happening now?”

Eddie nodded once and Richie felt shaky all of a sudden, rambly.

“Oh, well… okay. I… don’t know what to say.” He breathed. Eddie’s eyes were steely as he moved, _determined_ as he took a step forward, closing Richie’s door behind him in one swift movement.

###

**_2 months before the elevator_ **

“Um, wow, hello.” A voice said, causing Eddie to open his eyes slowly as he kept swinging. He’d heard the stranger approach, but he was hoping a conversation wouldn’t ensue. It was… 2AM in a public park, after all. What could there possibly be to talk about?

“Hi.” Eddie replied. He usually wouldn’t have said anything, just glared for a long moment before closing his eyes again and swinging a little higher. This time, though, well… the guy was cute. Tall and gangly, swaying a little bit like a palm tree. He also had wide brown eyes, magnified by his big dorky glasses, and they were so fucking endearing. His whole deer-in-the-headlights thing, for some reason, gave Eddie pause.

“There aren’t usually… people here this late.” The guy said, mouth opening and closing a few times before he managed the words. Eddie nodded and dragged his feet along the sand beneath him, stopping his swing to just a gentle rocking.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Eddie muttered, but the guy heard him and laughed before moving into the swing next to Eddie. He stumbled a little, obviously intoxicated, which made sense. Sober people didn’t swing on swing sets in the middle of the night. Well, sober and sane people, which ruled out Eddie.

“You come here a lot, too?” the guy asked. Eddie just nodded, not really knowing why he was giving that personal information out to a handsome stranger, “Hmm, I’ve never seen you. Must’ve just missed each other.”

“Must’ve.” Eddie reiterated. They swung silently for a moment, Eddie contemplating how long he had to sit there before he could get up and leave. The guy had a different agenda, though.

“I’m Richie, by the way.” He offered and Eddie blew out a breath.

“Eddie.” He didn’t know why he gave his real name, it just felt right. He hadn’t been honest with a stranger in _so long_. It almost made him feel normal.

“Eddie,” Richie repeated with a grin, “So, _Eds,_ what brings you out here so late?” he asked. Eddie shrugged and kicked his legs a little harder, ignoring the nickname because he genuinely didn’t know how to respond to it. Was it annoying? Did he fucking love it? Who goddam knows?

“Just wanted some fresh air. It’s not as loud this time of day.” Eddie explained, although right as he said it, the blare of a siren let out from somewhere behind him. Richie chuckled at the irony, but Eddie just rolled his eyes at the city.

“Well, it is New York _. City that never sleeps_ … and all… but I get what you mean. Less people around here, a little easier on the ears.” He commiserated. Eddie just shrugged.

“Far enough off the beaten path.” Richie nodded in agreement and then it fell silent for a second. He was probably waiting for Eddie to ask him the same question, continue the conversation, but Eddie wasn’t sure he had it in him. Not tonight. Not after that last job. He could still feel the smoke in his lungs, still smell the burning…

He didn’t really feel in the mood to talk.

“To be honest, Eddie-bear, I never really know why I end up here,” Richie started. He obviously didn’t mind that his audience wasn’t completely participatory – he was going to talk anyway. Eddie wasn’t as upset about that as he expected to be, “For some reason, any time I party in the city, I end up here. I black out or brown out the night and when I come to… I’m on the swings, in this park. Don’t know why. Never even lived here before, just like the… ambience. And the fresh air.” He was twisting in his swing, not moving back and forth, and he turned to wink at Eddie, as if… connecting with him. It was actually cute, which made Eddie scowl.

“Why are you doing that?” Eddie asked, eyeing the twisted chains above Richie’s head. Eddie wanted to scold him, tell him he was going to get his hair tangled and pulled out, tell him he was being stupid and careless. The words were on the tip of his tongue…

“Oh, I don’t know.” Richie shrugged, nonchalant. That was a good word for everything Richie was presenting, _nonchalance_. It didn’t fit, though, not as much as Richie probably wanted it to. Things like that never did, Eddie knew that. If he looked close enough, he could see the picked-at skin of Richie’s thumbs indicating anxiety and hinting at self-harm to cope. He could also notice that the clarity in his eyes and eloquent nature with which he spoke didn’t match the stumbling gait he’d set earlier, probably done in an attempt to make himself seem more drunk than he was, giving him a better excuse for the bravery that would be involved in talking to a stranger on a swing set in the middle of the night. He could also notice the cologne, sprayed just a little too liberally, maybe even desperately, but still unable to cover the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and vodka. Richie definitely cared more than he made it seem.

“You’re… that’s _not_ how swings are supposed to work.” Eddie settled on, kicking harder again to emphasize his back and forth movement. Richie watched the line of his body for a moment, seemingly a little mesmerized, before blinking back to focus and laughing a little.

“Swings work however the fuck you want them to,” Richie teased, lifting his feet off the ground so the chains righted themselves, spinning Richie quickly, jerkily, and making Eddie wince, “Don’t be such a rule follower, Eddie Spaghetti.” He chose to ignore the irony apparent in being called a rule-follower. He didn’t think rule-followers racked up as many felonies as Eddie had.

“I really don’t think we’re close enough for the barrage of nicknames you’re unloading on me.” Eddie snorted, “I actually can’t think of anyone in my life who I would say IS close enough to me for it.” Richie grinned and started twisting again.

“Well, that’s the beautiful thing about strangers, Eds-my-man,” Richie explained, “You can say anything you want to them with very little repercussion.”

“Oh, is that so?” Eddie asked. He did not agree in the slightest, but then again, his life was lived confidentially. He couldn’t be open. Richie didn’t have to fight that urge, and Eddie was suddenly… jealous.

“It is,” Richie said confidently, no explanation, “So tell me… Eduardo-”

“That’s getting longer, not shorter.”

“Nicknames aren’t always shorter, look at the Russians.”

“We _aren’t in_ Russia, Rich,” Eddie laughed, and it took Richie grinning at him for a second before he realized what he’d done, used his own nickname, “ _Whatever_.”

“ _See_ , you like me too, I knew it,” Richie crowed, before continuing, “Anyway, _Eduardo_ , tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.” He asked and Eddie froze up, right away.

“No thanks.” He said brusquely, but Richie wasn’t deterred.

“Awww, come on! Like I said, no repercussions! I don’t even know your last name! Or your job, your age, anything. What could I possibly do?” Richie asked, seemingly harmless. Eddie took a second to analyze the threat. He wasn’t easily duped, and Eddie’s instincts were telling him Richie wasn’t someone trying to hurt him, wasn’t a spy trying to trap him or a cop trying to weasel out information. Plus, if he was, this was the weirdest fucking honey-pot shit _ever_.

“What kind of thing do you wanna know?” His first kiss? His first kill? The worst thing he’d ever done? The worst thing he’d ever imagined doing? Eddie didn’t think Richie was prepared for any of those answers.

“Anything.” Richie said and Eddie thought for a moment, searched his memory for something to tell Richie. It wasn’t hard to think of something he’d never told anyone – his life was secrets. But what could he tell that was… what Richie would want from him?

“You go first.” Eddie said. It was a cop-out, totally, but Richie grinned at his participation anyway.

“My favorite movie is The Illusionist. Has been since I was like 12.” Richie admitted, smiling widely like he thought Eddie was going to get the joke. He didn’t.

“I’ve never… I don’t watch a lot of movies.” Eddie shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed and defensive at the shocked look on Richie’s face. Like, _come on_ , sorry he didn’t watch _all_ the movies in the 2000s. He was a little busy studying learning how to disassemble and reassemble a gun faster than anyone else in his class, thank you very much. So he might have missed I Love You, Beth Cooper, his fucking bad.

“Oh my God, you’ve never seen it?” Eddie bristled, prepared to lash out, but Richie shook his head and spoke before Eddie could, “I’m so jealous of you. You get to watch it for the first time!” Eddie choked on a laugh, endeared entirely by how excited Richie was by that idea. Fucking dork.

“Fucking dork.” Eddie whispered, making Richie laugh and tilt his head.

“Oh, we’re allowed to curse? Cool, I was holding my tongue because I didn’t want to offend you and you seem to have delicate sensibilities but-”

“I do not have a delicate sensibility!” Eddie bitched. He’d once suffocated a man with the large intestine of a diseased bull, thank you very much, he was strong stock.

“Whatever you say, cutie,” Richie teased, triggering Eddie’s glare, his _best_ glare, but Richie was shockingly unfazed, “Anyway, I fucking love that movie so much. There’s this scene… well, this is going to spoil the whole movie, is that okay?” he asked, and Eddie nodded, rolling his eyes. Watching the movie was very much not in his future.

“Okay, cool, well, the main character, the illusionist, is in love with this girl he meets, Sophie, when they’re kids. They’re separated because she’s like… _high class_ and he’s just a broke-ass farmer or… no carpenter, he’s a carpenter. So, he leaves and goes and becomes this amazing illusionist, but while he’s gone, the two of them stay in love, of-fucking-course. But Sophie is engaged to this uber-powerful duke or something. And Sophie and Edward can’t be together. So sad, right?”

“Tragic.” Eddie deadpanned. Richie ignored the obvious sarcasm and continued.

“I know! _However_ , Edward is super fucking smart, like wicked smart. How ‘bout dem apples, smart, you know?”

“I don’t.” It was a cute accent though.

“And so, he hatches this really complicated plan where he frames the duke guy for Sophie’s murder! And you think she’s dead for the whole movie, he acts all heartbroken and everything, but in the end she’s not. You really think she is - the duke even at one point thinks Edward killed her. But he could never. No, actually she’s in Switzerland, in these beautiful foothills, where Edward had family. At the end of the movie, they escape together, free of the duke- no, _prince_! He’s a crown prince. They’re free of him and able to live happily ever after.” Richie sighed happily when he was done, slumped a little in his swing.

“That’s… not embarrassing or anything.” Eddie didn’t know why he’d just been regaled with that story. It was sweet, he supposed, but why was it important?

“Oh, well, I guess it’s just… I always wanted to be Sophie, you know? Living a quiet life, with someone I love, no big celebrity life, just a cabin in the foothills of Switzerland. Off the grid.” Richie hummed, contemplatively and the shrugged, dismissing the idea, “Just a dream though.” Eddie sat for a moment in the silence, thinking.

“Sounds a bit fairytale.”

“Well, yeah. That’s why I love it. Who doesn’t want a white knight to come in and sweep you away? Break you out of the mundane routine of life? Sounds like a perfect way out.”

“Sounds dramatic.”

“Well, I am an actor.”

“Take it as a compliment, then.”

“I do.”

They volleyed off each other easily, in a way that was natural as breathing. It made Eddie feel things he hadn’t in a long time. It felt… dangerous.

“Its easier than you think.” he replied, speaking slowly after a long moment of silence. He didn’t even one-hundred percent know why… just that he wanted Richie to know… something.

“What do you mean?” Richie asked, confused. He had this cute little crease in between his eyes, thinking hard. 

“I mean… disappearing, running away, finding a way out. It’s not that hard… a few phone calls, a few favors. No big deal.” Richie laughed, looking at Eddie like he was crazy, expecting him to start laughing himself, but he didn’t.

“You know a lot about that?” Richie asked. Eddie didn’t know when, but at some point, both of them stopped moving officially, tilting their swings to face each other. It made Eddie nervous, that he’d angled himself closer to this man without even noticing the urge.

“I do,” Eddie said simply, “It’s actually one of the things I’m good at. Finding a way out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought! Also come say [HI](https://themightychipmunk.tumblr.com/)
> 
> :)


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